


A Simply Silly Life

by khanh



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khanh/pseuds/khanh
Summary: Life has up and down, but there’re things remained unchanged.Collection of short stories about the Newgate-Portgas household.





	1. Calling. Caffeine. Hair.

**Calling.**

 

Marco easily freaks out every time he receives a call. Freak out, as in he wants to throw his phone to the wall when he hears its ring tone. He once thought the anxiety would disappeared after he grew up, yet he’s in his forties now and the fear remains unchanged, only he becomes better at hiding it. When the screen blinks and the incoming call is announced, whatever he’s doing, his heart almost stops. All Marco can think is ‘oh my lord why can’t they text?’ He mentally wishes for whoever calling would hang up and choose texting instead. Taking a very deep breath, Marco picks up the phone, praying to the universe he won’t sputter on his words. His heart accelerates when he hits the receive button.

Ace, in contrast, is the ‘why wasting your time texting when you can say it out’ kind of person. His habit of calling bothers Marco a lot when they first get to know each other. Sometimes, after a long day of work, Marco’s energy is drained and he’s in no mood of talking. At those times, picking up a phone is equivalent to being tortured. Ace rants a lot, and even Marco himself finds his responses bland and unsupportive, but he’s just too tired to fake his excitement. Along the line, he notices Ace’s tone becomes less and less eager, and it makes him feel so bad. Marco hates himself when he’s like this, so tired for a simple call, yet still desperate to maintain their relationship.

Then Ace begins to change his greeting from ‘Hey there, Marco’ to ‘Hey there, Marco. It’s so great to hear your voice’.

“Listen, I know you dislikes calling, but I want to talk to you so much, so I’ll wrap it really quick. I---”

A simple opening, but it melts Marco’s heart. Slowly, but firmly, Ace becomes an important part of his life, an exception.

 

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**Caffeine.**

 

Ace doesn’t like coffee. One, caffeine makes him dizzy, and two, he has a terrible sweet tooth. At the age of twenty-two, Ace’s favorite beverage is strawberry smoothie.

He’s never thought that one day he’d craved for coffee.

Marco is a coffee man. He can’t function well without at least three cups of coffee a day.

Their first kiss tasted like coffee, and Ace finally understood why people said caffeine is addictive. The bitterness makes his body trembling in joy and drowns his heart in endless warmth. The world becomes a foreign concept until they part, and Ace loves licking the aftertaste lingering on his lips. 

Sometimes he wonders if Marco feels the same about strawberry flavor.

 

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**Hair.**

 

Ace loves playing with Marco’s hair. Running his fingers through the blond strands while they exchange a passionate kiss is his daily dose of joy. Marco knows this habit of his beloved, so he takes keeping his hair in good condition very serious. It’s not like he spends hours in the mall for hair products, but he’s careful with the chemicals, and always makes sure his hair is clean.

One day, when he’s about to take a shower, he finds a gray hair; its color alone stings him in his eyes. Marco keeps staring at the grayish strand until he hears Ace playing with Stefan in the living room. He lets out a sigh as he sits on the bathtub and thinks about the person on the other side of the door.

Sure he can apply as much shampoo and conditioner as he want, but he can never resist the cruelty of time. At the end of the day, the chemicals only slow down the aging, or worse, gives him the illusion that he can fool his aging. The flimsy gray hair is a vivid reminder that he’s getting old, and what’s within his reach right now may flip through his fingers in the near future. In the next five years, he’ll become a cranky middle-aged man while Ace’s still in the glory of his youth. Can he really hope they’ll remain the same as they always are?

Suddenly happiness becomes too surreal. The hair is real. A light strand of hair weighting down his heart. 

Marco had expected the cause for his mid-life crisis would be insurances and health problems, not a single strand of hair.

He has a dream where he wakes up and finds his hair turning to white. Then he becomes panic and tries millions way to make himself blond again, even dying it with paint. It’s silly, Marco knows, Ace won’t leave him because his hair has drained out of color. Yet the thought of Ace stops liking one of his feature because he’s getting old is really unnerving.

Except it isn’t a dream. Marco opens his eyes and finds the bed covered in white hair. Chill runs down his spine. Marco immediately rushes to the bathroom to check his hair. His hair is still blond, but that's not enough to put his heart at ease, so he keeps checking over and over again.

“Marco? You’re up?” He hears Ace calls for him, “What’re you doing?”

“Plucking my gray hair.”

“Really?” Ace reaches out and runs his hand on Marco’s hair, the touch sends shiver over his scalp, “Don’t see anything, you look wonderful. If you’re still worried, I’ll help out you later. Now help me with Stefan’s fur. The boy’s been shedding everywhere.”

Marco dumbfounds and follows Ace to the living room. Stefan is snoring happily in his bed. Meanwhile, not only the floor, but the whole sofa is covered in white fur.

“I saw him ran out from our bedroom, so we need to check our bed too,” Ace purses his lips, “And get him a new brand of shampoo.”

The gray hair anchoring Marco’s heart slowly fades away when he and Ace work together to bathe their son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sometimes have random ideas that aren’t enough to develop to a completed story, but I still want to write them out so much, so here’s a collection of random drabbles/short stories no one asks for. Most of them will be slice of life, hurt/comfort and fluff (aka my cup of tea).
> 
> If you’re interested, send me random word and I’ll see what I can come up with ^^


	2. Anger

**#1.**

 

Marco has always known his calmness is a sheer masquerade.

 

Growing up with fourteen brothers was no easy task, especially when he’s the ‘big brother’. At very young age, he’d learned to make his brothers the top priorities. Their needs for him made him felt worthy, so he always tried his best to be as reliable as he could.

 

But when it’s his turn to need help, he doesn’t know what to do. His brothers come to him when they needed help, not the vice versa. Marco felt scared. What would happened if they realized he was no longer trustworthy? The result is something he doesn’t even dare to think about. He ignored his pain and kept on wearing a calm and welcoming mask. At some point along the process, the mask merged with his skin and Marco really forgot how to express his real emotions.

 

Deep down inside, he knows the negative feelings are still there, cannot be consumed or discarded. They accumulates in his body day by day like the salt in the Dead Sea.

 

Sometimes life gets hard. Sometimes things escalate though no one is at fault. Marco doesn’t remember why he gets so angry. The need to lash the irritation out is seething so bad his ears buzzes and his vision blurs. Maybe the negativity piling up in him for years finally find a way to get on his nerves. Maybe he’s just too exhausted to maintain his façade. Marco can’t catch up with his thought anymore and he finally snaps.

 

His words are met with silence.

 

In an instant Ace’s skin becomes paler, his mouth hangs with his lips slightly parted and his eyes dilate, then his whole body shivers.

 

“Ace?”

 

Rage immediately evaporates from Marco’s mind. He’s never seen a silent Ace. Ace is supposed to be the talkative one between the two of them. Silence hangs in the air like a poisonous cloud, cruelly underscoring how their conversation has become.

 

Marco reaches for his love, but Ace simply steps aside and raises his fist. Marco holds himself, yet the blow never comes. Ace withdraws his hand, turns around and walks out of their home. Something shatters and the pieces stab Marco in his heart. Through the window, he can see Ace walks toward his motorcycle. The young man picks up the helmet, then he puts it down and blends himself into the night.

 

**#2.**

 

Ace wants to head to the sea, but he knows he’s not a good state to ride. His body shivers and his hand cannot stop trembling. Oh how easy Marco can cut him deep. He has let Marco coming so close his heart is defenseless.

 

Sometimes shit happens, then shit hurts. Ace doesn’t remember what’d led them to this awful conversation. Was it the workload? Was it the anniversary dates that got cancelled in the last minute? Was it they hadn’t seen each other for five days? When he stared in Marco’s eyes, the serene blue he adores so much was burning with rage, his heart fell silent. His Marco wasn’t supposed to look at him like that. The words coming from Marco just straight pierced him in his weakest point.

 

In shock, his instinct thirsted for a horrid payback. His fist clenched tight. A retort ready to be spat out. Then Ace saw it, his own reflection in Marco’s eyes: a hateful ego ready to bite the person he loves.

 

The bitter taste of venomous words choked on his throat. Since childhood Ace already knew how badly words can burn. He almost used words to damage his beloved.

 

He couldn’t let that happen, so he ran away.

 

Instant noodles in convenient store aren’t what he wishes for dinner. A few days ago they’ve run out of peanut butter, so he makes sure to get a new jar.

 

It starts raining right after he leaves the store, making the way home seems to be endless. The droplets wash his face in a chaotic cascade. Ace raises his eyes to the haze above, suffocated by the uncertainty of what is to come.

 

**#3.**

 

When Ace gets in the front yard, he sees a shadow flashing behind the window. His motorcycle, which was parked outside, had been moved away. His helmet, completely dry and clean, lies on the shoe rack right next to his key. The jacket he threw on the sofa earlier is placed neatly on the clothes stand. Marco sits on the sofa, avoiding eyes contact. No ‘I’m back’, and no ‘Welcome home’. The rain is still pouring hard outside, making the awkwardness in their room more vivid.

 

Ace takes a deep breath and walks to the kitchen to replace the butter jar. Peanut butter has never been his favorite, but getting a new jar when they run out of the paste has become a part of his habit. When he turns around, he notices Marco is gazing after the jar. His eyes sparkle like those of a child excited to unbox his Christmas’s gift.

 

 _Worth it._ Ace’s lips curl into a smile. But when their eyes meet, Marco quickly turns away again.

 

“Take a shower, or you’ll catch a cold.”

 

Marco says blandly, then he heads upstairs.

 

Ace stares at Marco’s back. His legs feels weak, then suddenly the urge to act becomes overwhelming. His body answers his desire faster than his thinking and he soon finds his chest leaning against a homey warmth. Marco’s back is broader than his. He loves hugging Marco from behind, placing his chin against the man’s shoulder and whispering a cheesy pickup line he reads on the Internet. Marco blushes easily and Ace likes teasing the man until he’s so embarrassed he has force him to stop. The beautiful memory is such a contrary to the ironic reality, where Marco shifts his body in an attempt to move away.

 

Somehow the small gesture hurts him more than the words ever did.

 

“Marco…” 

 

Marco stiffens. 

 

_It hurts. It really hurt. What you said really hurt._

 

“I-“

 

_I’m mad at you. I’m so mad at you._

_But I also…_

 

“—love you.”

 

Ace tightens his embrace and inhales deeply. It was easier than he expected. He was so mad, yet he could said those three words as naturally as always. He was hurt, yet when he reaches inside of himself, what is left is still a whole heart, beating faster when the blonde man is around, willing to expose its vulnerability.

 

No matter what happen, he cannot stop loving Marco. It’s simply a fact.

 

His heart has been Marco’s all along, even before the moment he said ‘Yes’.

 

They stands silently next to the stairways until Ace feels coldness spreading on his chest. In horror he realizes he’s been rubbing his wet outfit against Marco all along. He quickly lets go of his hands, but Marco grasps his wrists and holds them in place.

 

“Marco?”

 

“…Thanks God you came back.”

 

Marco’s voice cracks to nearly unhearable. 

 

“…I-I’m sorry Ace, I shouldn’t—“

 

“…”

 

“I-I just… I don’t know how to… I should have run after you. I--”

 

“Are we still good?”

 

Ace mumbles, realizing how his voice is unstable too.

 

“We are!” Marco turns around and holds Ace in place, one hand cupping Ace’s cheek, “We always are!”

 

“That’s good,” Ace burst a laugh, “That’s so good.”

 

His heart is put at ease. Ace closes his eyes and slightly leans his head to feel Marco’s hand better. The heat from Marco’s hand is so comfortable it reminds Ace of the first ray of sunlight after a rainy day.

 

Then Marco pushes him away, his voice becomes serious.

 

“But you need to shower first. Hurry up!”

 

**#4.**

 

They lie side by side, taking comfort in the other’s presence. Even their heartbeats seem to be synchronized. But the real problem, the reason why they fought, is yet to be solved. It lurks in the dark like a sneaky little monster, waiting for its chance to wreak havoc once again.

 

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow?”

 

Ace breaks the silence. He doesn’t plan to give the monster what it wants.

 

“We will,” answered Marco, firmly and assertively.

 

“Goodnight then.”

 

Ace snickers and surrenders to his sleeo. As he lies there and is sort of half-conscious, his mind recalls the seashore where they had their first date and how they shared the admiration for the great blue sea. Their hands fit perfectly, as if they’re made for each other.

 

Then Ace catches a small whisper, a whisper so soft it may just be his imagination.

 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I imagine them fighting. Ace is usually described as childish while Marco is more mature, so I want to try the opposite. I have a feeling Marco will make up first when they have small fight, but when things get big, it’s Ace who will solve the problem.
> 
> Inspired by a wholesome meme I once saw on Reddit. Two people arguing, one has an umbrella. Then it starts to rain and they walk home continue arguing, but the umbrella one use it to shelter the other instead of themselves.
> 
> Anger and love don’t have to be opposite. They can happen at the same time.


	3. Equal. Sleeping. Waking up.

**Equal.**

 

The notification ringtone nearly gave Ace a heart attack. He never ran across the room faster in his life, then he just stared at his phone, too nervous to pick it up. Taking one, two, and then three deep breaths, he finally turned on his phone and opened the new email. He read it again and again until he learned by heart every single word, then his lips curled upward. His body gave up and he simply slumped in his favorite armchair.

He had a job. A fulltime job. 

Sure he’d been through part-time and internship. Luckily, his family never rushed him about getting a job right after graduation either. Back in the days Ace was still in high school, he dreamed of taking gap year and traveling the world. Then he met Marco. Marco was calm. Marco was mature. Marco could take care of his insanely big family.

Marco was everything that he was not.

Suddenly Ace’s path changed. He wanted to get a job, he wanted to settle down. He still wanted to see the wonders of this world, but with the one he loved by his side.

To Ace, a job mean more than just paying his bills.

It equaled to taking a next step into being an adult.

It proved he could taking care of himself.

It mean he could proudly stand by Marco’s side.

 

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**Sleeping.**

 

_‘Light confuses the body’s circadian clock’._

Ace frowns at the line and thinks about every time Marco groans in his sleep. He always knows Marco is a light sleeper, but recently the situation seems to get worse. Marco spends the night shifting between his back and the two sides. Even when they get to bed early, Marco still wakes up with bags under his eyes.

Ace cannot stand it anymore, so he’s looking a solution. Making a list of what he can do, he pulls of his sleeves and begins to rearrange the room. In the dark, their room is not much different from a mad scientist’s laboratory. His phones, the cable box, the alarm clock, the luminous souvenirs,… Everything blinks or glows bright green. The light intensity of each item isn’t strong, but together they drown the room in a dim and gloomy light, mocking him for failing as a partner.

At the result, when Marco gets back, he scans the room suspiciously as if he’s trying to guess what is Ace’s new frank.

“I just rearrange a few things. Come.”

“Move the nightstand, replace the curtain, cover the alarm clock and the cable box,...,” Marco easily points out, “That’s not ‘a few things’ Ace.”

“You know light confuses the body’s circadian clock, so it’s better keeping the room very dark when you sleep? And too little blood flowing to the extremities can keep you awake?”

Marco dumbfounds for a second.

“You’re using medical words?”

“Idiot can learn,” Ace grins and pushes Marco onto the bed, “No talking. Time to sleep. I’ll be your personal heater for the night.”

 

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**Waking up.**

 

Break day is the best day. They can linger on the bed a bit longer instead of waking with the sun. Marco isn’t much of a sleepyhead, so he only wakes up about thirty minutes later than usual. On the contrary, Ace will not get out of bed until his stomach growls.

Actually Ace can wake up early on break days. He just doesn’t do that on purpose.

Sometimes he opens his eyes right after Marco finishes his morning hygiene. Instead of getting out of bed, he likes hiding in the sheets and watches Marco opens the curtain. Though Marco makes it subtle so that the light won’t reach the bed, it cannot stop the sun from filling the room with a warm sensation. Even the air becomes sweeter, then sunlight will conjures the most brilliant mosaics and paints Marco in gold. His hair will shimmer as he stretches his muscles and lets the sunlight aligning softly on every part of his skin. Maybe after a passionate night, Ace will catch glimpse of his own achievements carved here and there on Marco’s body.

And when Ace’s eyes rest on the ring on Marco’s finger, he knows he’s safe. He’s home. Then he will burrows himself in the soft sheets and dozes off again.

Yeah sometimes Ace can wake up early, but Marco will never know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sleeping” is inspired by “The Happiness Project” by Gretchen Rubin. It’s a very lovely book. Highly recommend for anyone who want to “spent a year trying to sing in the morning, clean my closets, fight right, read Aristotle, and generally have more fun”.


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